Like Lovers Holding On
by Delena Aneled Hupp
Summary: A lesson in hardships: Ginny makes a decision that will shape her life drastically. -War fic- -Repost- -Effectively Discontinued-


_Like Lovers (Holding On)_

_**By**_ Delena/Aneled Hupp

_**Rating**_ T (PG-13)

_**Genre**_ Drama

_**Legalities**_ How trite, shall I attempt to personalize it, as does everyone else on this site? HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of and copyright Warner Bros. Harry Potter Publishing rights copyright J.K. Rowling. All rights reserved. I am in no form or fashion gaining any money from writing this; all I receive is a good laugh. I additionally disclaim rights to the fanfic's title; _Like Lovers (Holding On)_ is an absolutely amazing song by Texas.

_**Mission Summary**_ The Second War has begun. Boys sixteen and up have been drafted into a wizard military; Hogwarts is no exception. Ginny's found herself far from home in these uncertain times.

_**Mission Statistic Warnings**_ Minor language and het. The future's also pretty dark in this fic.

_**Mission Status Report **_In progress

_**Pre-Mission Briefing**_ I've completely removed the old post of this fic, as it was a nasty piece of work; its very presence on the net embarrassed me. For those of you new to this monstrosity, welcome, and for those of you returning with confused or surprised expressions and perhaps questioning the absence of the other five chapters, welcome back. The original archive date for this fic is March 8, 2003.

_**End briefing. Begin Chapitre the First: When You Come Back To Me Again**_

Hermione Granger sat in the Great Hall, silently watching a piece of toast in front of her. Hogwarts had been troubled and empty the past two months; the quiet of the castle and the recent death of their beloved headmaster, Dumbledore, were unnerving. The brunette teen looked around her. Silence was not the only problem; the absence of a certain Ginevra Weasley was another.

Parkinson crossed the Hall to the Gryffindor table and joined the melancholy young witch. The tension between the two had eased slightly with present circumstances fresh in everyone's minds; but old grudges were still harboured, preventing the girls from forming any bonds of camaraderie. Another Slytherin trailed behind Parkinson and seated herself with the other two; presumably one of Parkinson's usual gang.

"Problem, Granger?" Parkinson asked a little stiffly, idly poking her sandwich. Hermione sighed.

"You should know," she replied testily; tired of the same routine every lunch. Hermione assumed the daily harassment was Parkinson's form of coping with Malfoy's absence. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil passed the table in time to catch the start of another of the Gryffindor prefect's foul moods and plopped down uninvited- much the same as Parkinson had- across from Hermione.

"Y'know Hermione, just because Ron hasn't written doesn't mean something bad happened," Parvati said, hoping to squelch an argument that was indeed imminent, "Maybe they're just too busy."

Hermione's attention drifted vaguely to the girl in front of her.

"Or maybe," Hermione started slowly, "Maybe something terrible has happened and now they're dead."

"Oh for the love of god, not again…" Lavender rolled her eyes, "Are you listening to yourself? We'd _know_ if something happened; you'd be _notified_. Remember that letter Demelza got last week?"

Hermione's attention was now focused on Lavender; her voice jumped a pitch, "You know what, Lavender? I don't _care_ what Demelza got in the post. I know that _I_ haven't received any word whatsoever from Ron, nor Harry, nor Ginny in almost two months. None of them! For two months! I haven't even received a frantic scribble! Their whole _unit_ could be gone and we won't hear about it until even _more_ months have passed! The post could be delayed! Their _owls_ could have been shot down!"

The outburst received a series of odd glances from the Gryffindor prefect's tablemates and a few stray passers-by.

"Wow. Dramatic much?" Parkinson deadpanned.

"You keep out of this!" Hermione's voice cracked mid-sentence from exasperation.

"Oh chill _out_, Granger," the Slytherin hissed, "she was trying to look on the bright side." She took an angry bite from her sandwich to punctuate. Parvati nodded, for once in agreement at the Slytherin's words; Lavender looked affronted.

"I'm trying to be optimistic," she said, "You're putting a damper on it."

"You want to know something, Lavender?" Hermione began, her pitch voice dropping again, "_I'm_ trying to be realistic; _I'm_ trying to keep what little reality there's left that's worth holding on to. We've been barricaded inside these walls with no word from Tambov... people I _love_ have been taken away, and I don't know if they're alive or dead."

A cold, shrill laugh from Parkinson seemed to voice the general consensus of the other girls present.

"Well," Lavender shot back, clenching her jaw in an effort not to lash out at Hermione, "Forgive me for trying to help. I guess you must be the _only_ person here who's worried."

Hermione compressed her fists and emitted a frustrated sound akin to a growl.

"Just forget it," she grumbled, and extracted herself from her present company at the table.

"You did that on purpose," Parvati said accusingly to Parkinson as Hermione stalked away.

The only response was an innocent, "What?"

"Oh, you know what," Lavender snapped, "Why'd you get her going?"

"Because it's fun?" Parkinson responded half-heartedly. Really, it was. If Hermione took the bait every time, Pansy couldn't be blamed for enjoying it; the Gryffindor was supposed to be smart enough to avoid it anyway.

The unnoticed Slytherin girl at Pansy's side giggled.

"You're sadistic," she remarked, amused.

"You see?" the Slytherin prefect donned an expression of barbarous glee, "At least someone here has a sense of humour."

Lavender's right eyebrow shot up, "Nothing funny about it, Parkinson. Sod off already."

"Why should I?" the blonde shot back, "Why is she the only one allowed to vent?"

"She hasn't egged anyone on!" Lavender exclaimed. She didn't care to acknowledge that the Slytherin _did_ make a good point. After all, it was the principle of the matter and it was Lavender's duty as a Gryffindor to defend her housemate in her absence, regardless of how little she actually liked the bushy-haired prefect. Damn that Gryffindor decency.

"She shouldn't be stupid enough to respond."

Lavender shook her head in aggravation.

"You're impossible, you know that?" she conceded, and finally redirected her focus to her now-cold soup. Parkinson haughtily accepted her victory; the duration of dinner passed in silence.

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In the Seventh Year girls' dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower, Hermione lay on her bed lost in recollection of the day. She would, of course, apologise to Lavender. It seemed that they had been short with each other often as of late, not that they had been the best of friends before dark times invaded, but it was the propriety of the matter.

She sighed, then rolled onto her side and shifted into a foetal position as she suddenly noticed her stack of schoolbooks resting forgotten on her nightstand. It had been the first time in a long time that she had forgotten a homework assignment. If the truth were told, her schoolwork as a whole had been suffering since her friends were sent away; no one had noticed since Hermione's idea of falling grades still ranked higher than everyone's best. She sighed again, this time with great effort, and pulled her texts, parchment, and quill onto her four-poster.

A glance at her quill brought a soft smile to Hermione's face. It wasn't really a parting gift, but an early birthday gift from Ron; the boys were drafted almost immediately after the start of the new term. Ron had intended to buy something more extravagant for her eighteenth birthday… somehow his best intentions had always managed to fall through. At the time, he had said,

"It's kind of a… well, it's a rain cheque."

Hermione was certain she had heard him mumble something akin to "I can't afford a ring yet…" but that could have been her inner romantic being hopeful.

Her open potions text glared at her; the parchment resting on the left side of the text stared at her blankly. She exhaled dramatically, before pushing away her distracting thoughts and focussing on her assignment.

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Darkness soon fell over Hogwarts, and the torches began lighting up through the rooms and corridors of the castle.

Parkinson plopped down as ungracefully as she could manage onto one of the leather chairs in the Slytherin Common Room.

"Going batty," she muttered under her breath just as Millicent walked by and raised an eyebrow in question. The pug-faced girl did not notice though and just continued incoherently grumbling things like "damn Granger" and "stupid Draco," but mostly she cursed Malfoy's physical absence and his constant presence in her consciousness. Who would have thought someone could miss the bastard so much, she thought with a half-pained grin. She snuggled into her chair; never voicing her deepest fears, that Hermione was right again, and fell into a shaky slumber.

_**End Chapitre. Continue in Chapitre the Second**_

_**Post-Mission Analysis**_ I believe chapitre the first has been, for the most part, cured of the OOC pox. Any suggestions? For those who have been with me since the beginning (almost four years ago), is this revamp better than the original?

_**Post HBP Analysis**_ We're going to pretend that we know for sure that Hogwarts reopened during Harry and co.'s Seventh Year. We'll also pretend that Harry returned for his Seventh Year despite what he said at Dumbledore's funeral (I'm going to have fun rewriting Ginny's role and the Horcrux ordeal).

_**End Transmission**_


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